


Nylons, Lipstick, and Invitations

by crowleyshouseplant



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Alternate Reality, Fix-It, Gen, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:36:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowleyshouseplant/pseuds/crowleyshouseplant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only things Susan is interested in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nylons, Lipstick, and Invitations

**Author's Note:**

> A couple days ago, I was once more upset with Susan's treatment by Lewis in the narrative (just randomly, actually, serfing through tumblr thinking tumbling thoughts until HELLO RIGHTEOUS OUTRAGE from nowhere), and wrote a little blurb on my tumblr about the different queer interpretations one could apply to Susan, including several trans* interpretations. This drabble explores one of those interpretations by playing with Eustace's comment regarding her belief in Narnia: "What wonderful memories you have! Fancy you still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children." I've thus stuck them in an alternate reality where Narnia was, in fact, a game which they collaborated on together and which Susan used as a way to validate her identity, and was thus summarily rejected for by the others, as happened in the canon narrative. This drabble is also informed by my own personal anxieties regarding my own queerness, that it's all in my head, etc.
> 
> Please do not ever hesitate to tell me if I've written anything that is offensive/problematic--I will fix it, and thank you for taking the time to tell me.

Susan thought that stepping into the wardrobe was probably the best thing that had happened to her.

Luxurious fur coats. Skirts that were teasingly short, dresses long enough to brush the floor (long enough to trip her should she wear them but Susan didn’t care as she buried her nose into the folds, sneezing at the dust).

Susan’s knees wobbled and her stomach swooped uncomfortably when Lucy started telling stories about the world in the Narnia, and on a rainy day when the thunderclouds loomed and the lightening flickered through the heavily curtained windows, they bundled themselves into the massive wardrobe, too thick to hear the thunder through the wood and the clothes, too dark to see the lightening.

With just the weak, wavering light of a candle flame, it was easy to believe in Narnia. And when they named themselves to the talking beaver, Susan let out in an eager rush of air, the hem of a dress threaded through her fingers as she said, “Susan.”

“Simon—“ and Peter’s voice was hard as he nudged Susan with his elbow.

“Susan,” she said again, a little louder.

The children side-eyed each other until Edmund huffed irritably, the candle flame flickering and smoking as he spoke. “It’s just a game. It’s just pretend. Let’s keep going.”

And they did and after the two sons of Adam and the two daughters of Eve defeated the White Witch and they became king and queens of Narnia, they tumbled from the wardrobe, eyes heavy and sleepy, Susan holding her head high.

They returned to Narnia throughout their stay, when the news was unhappy and when they thought that the war wouldn’t end ever at all. Until Peter made Aslan say that they were too old, that Lucy and Edmund could come back—because it was okay to play games if one wasn’t too old for it—and when Susan tumbled out of the wardrobe, her feet thundering down the old wooden stair case, she heard Peter calling out after her, “Simon, you knew it could never have been real. It was always pretend!”

And she stuck her fingers in her ears, and shouted, “Shut up, Peter, shut up!” as she hurled herself into her bedroom, locked the door with trembling fingertips, and paced the center of the room, her muscles shivering under her skin.

So Susan let Edmund and Lucy have their Narnia until they told her that they were too old for silly children’s games.

But once a queen of Narnia—always a queen of Narnia.

She let her hair grow long. She went to a new school wearing new skirts to new people and she told them her name was Susan. She wore nylons, went to the parties and teas her friends invited her to, her name  _Susan Pevensie_ written in neat cursive on the invitations.

Sometimes her family would come and visit her. Once, Lucy saw that her drawers were open, and she dipped her finger into the pile of lacy things, a long black nylon hanging from the crook of her fingertip, and she said, “Really?”

Lucy was very modest with her wool stockings.

Susan plucked it from her hand, stuffed it back into the drawer, and slammed it shut.

“You know it was only ever a game, right?” Lucy said. “There was no Narnia in a wardrobe. No Aslan. I was never Queen Lucy and you were never Queen Susan, Simon.”

Susan put her finger over Lucy’s lips. “I know better than you,” she said. “And if you can’t say something nice, then don’t say anything at all.” She bopped Lucy on the nose, like she used to do when they were younger.

“Simon,” Lucy said.  “This nonsense about once a queen in Narnia, always a queen in Narnia must stop.”

“You’re right, it must,” Susan said. “I know that Narnia isn’t real. I know that there’s no other worlds in the cupboards. I know that there’s no such being as Aslan. I know these things aren’t real. But I am. I am not make-believe.”

Lucy shook her head, turned and left.

Susan closed the door behind her, leaned close into the mirror, tipped her lashes black and deepened the red of her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> In which I'm egotistical enough to write meta on my own writing:
> 
> It has recently come to my attention that narratives that feature queer protagonist where say, for example, the issue of their transgender, is their primary conflict because queer characters are people and there is more to them than this particular aspect of their personhood.
> 
> And I do agree with that even though most of my trans fic right now is--well, mostly about their queerness being the primary conflict (i think it has a lot to do with my own process of working through my own non-binary gender identification). And, specifically for this fic, I'm directly challenging a cis, sexist image of the canon text and--I guess, what I'm trying to say is that I'm having trouble navigating the different shades and complexities of narrative and characterization.
> 
> And that I'll try to do better for my future fics that I have in mind--but for now, this is what happened, and I know that I, as a writer, have a responsibility to write complex queer characters, and that I will try to do better.


End file.
